I Want To Shake The Hand Of The Man

I was grocery shopping yesterday and I forgot to make a list so I was kind of wandering around the store trying to think about things I needed and what kind of meals I was going to make. And then I got thinking about how much I really wanted fajitas right then and there, in the store. But since I wasn't in Costco there was no chance I was going to get any. The first time I had fajitas was back in San Antonio, in high school, when Taco Cabana was just one store on Hildebrand that used to get closed down every two months when La Migra raided it and sent all the illegals home.
   I wanted to shake the hand of the man who invented fajitas, but the origins of that delicious food are lost in the mists of time. So I got to thinking about other great things I can't thank anyone for.

French bread pizza. It should be a travesty but it's oh-so delicious.
   Star fruit. It's fruit... shaped like a star. Sounds like a marketing ploy, but it's all natural.
Bogs. They're like swamps but without alligators and with mummified Stone Age people.
   Australian $2 coins. The best thing for scratching your scratch-off Lottery tickets.
Gyros meat. I know it's processed to Hell and back, but... mmmmm....
   Craftsman furniture. I could try to shake the hand of Gustav Stickley, but he's been dead for decades.
Carnies. God love 'em, they're so crooked they make Louisiana politicians look honest. Only hot chicks win the huge stuffed Pink Panther, how's that fair? I could shake one of their hands, but, really, I'd rather not.
    Gun shows. The only place where you can be amused, horrified, disgusted, and intrigued in the space of five minutes. Why is it the people you least want to have guns have the most?
Revell models. Really I'm more a fan of Testor's model glue, but they don't make it same way now as they did when I was a kid. No good fumes anymore. And, actually, one of the Revell founders is still alive, but he's in Florida and I never go there.
   Coca-Cola Santa Claus. Other than Nat Cole singing, nothing puts me more in the Christmas mood.
Undershirts. The thin, thin, thin kind you wear under a dress shirt. The kind Marlon Brando wore as Stanley Kowalski in Streetcar. Nothing makes you feel more like a hard-boiled 50's detective than putting on an undershirt.